


Baby, You Don't Have to Rush

by Rikkapikasnikka



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, Hot Mess Luka Couffaine, Hot Mess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Kitchen Sex, Marinette Dupain-Cheng wears Luka Couffaine's clothes, Morning After, Morning Sex, Sharing Clothes, Table Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29812047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkapikasnikka/pseuds/Rikkapikasnikka
Summary: After a tipsy night together, Marinette wakes up in Luka's apartment. She's groggy, warm, and naked, so after a quick shower, she puts on the cleanest clothes she can find:Luka's.He's definitely not complaining.Written for ML Valentine's Day Exchange 2021.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 5
Kudos: 135
Collections: ML Secret Valentine 2021





	Baby, You Don't Have to Rush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amaranthe7081](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Amaranthe7081).



> Hey all!!! Sorry for another smut piece so soon, hahah... I offered to pitch hit for the Secret Valentine's exchange! And since I had this wip Lukanette lying around, I figured I'd finish it up! Please enjoy! Thanks for participating in the exchange, Amaranthe!
> 
> content warning: the following story depicts fictional characters in consensual, descriptive, sexual situations.

Marinette woke to a room that wasn't hers.

The walls were off-white, trimmed in bright wooden baseboards, and filled with pictures. A bookshelf stuffed with records and thin paperbacks was directly across from her, and to her right, an open door led to a tiled bathroom. The floor was blue carpet, mostly free of clutter (besides some clothes), and the window on the other wall was letting in brilliant yellow morning light.

The defining feature was a purple-painted acoustic guitar, hung on the wall across from the bed above a small desk. It was covered in stickers, spray paint, and scuff marks. It was well-worn, well-played, and well-loved.

This, Marinette realised, was Luka's apartment.

She also realised she was naked.

She sat up quickly, clutching the sheet to her chest, trying to regulate her breathing. She cast her thoughts back to last night, digging through the haze of memories and alcohol, when the man beside her pulled her back down.

“Too early, melody” Luka grumbled, nuzzling into her shoulder. She spluttered, but the rise and fall of his body was slow and even, and Marinette wondered if he was still asleep. He had had a concert last night, it had run late, she had met him afterwards, they had stopped for drinks...

Groaning, Marinette wiggled out of his grasp and rolled out of the bed, half-falling, half-flailing onto the floor. She grunted as she hit it, wincing as she tried to find clothes.

“You okay,” came Luka’s muffled voice, his tone more of a statement than a question.

“Y-Yeah.”

Marinette pulled on the nearest shirt she could grab, barely registering that it wasn’t hers, and she stood up from the floor as Luka sat up in the bed. He was rubbing his eyes as she ran her fingers through her hair, but she paused when she saw his chest. His very bare, very  _ defined _ chest.

Heat rose to her face as she stared, unsure if she was more embarrassed about admiring his muscles or the obvious hickeys she had left last night.

Luka lowered his hand, opened his eyes, and his own cheeks exploded in pink as he blinked at her. He averted his eyes, coughed into his fist, and Marinette looked down at the shirt she was now wearing.

It reached nearly to mid-thigh, but it was clearly Luka’s from last night. It was plain and light, its seams worn smooth, and Marinette fidgeted with the hem as Luka rolled out of bed.

“I’ll g-go, uh,” he stuttered, quickly pulling on pants. “I’ll go make us some coffee, yeah?”

“That would be lovely,” Marinette agreed, quickly scrambling to pick up her clothes from the floor as Luka walked past her.

“You can use the shower,” he said lightly, before escaping to the kitchen. Marinette blinked after him, glanced at the bathroom, and shifted uneasily.

“Thanks!” she called after him, and Luka sent her a thumbs up through the bedroom door before closing it.

After gathering her clothes, puzzling over the shower, and accepting that her hair was going to smell like pine and mint instead of her usual fruity shampoo, Marinette stood in just a towel in front of his dresser. Her jaw was set, her mind racing, and her clothes from last night just...wouldn’t do. They felt dirty, and while the blouse and skirt weren’t particularly uncomfortable, they weren’t comfy either. But she didn’t have a change of clothes either, and...

“He wouldn’t mind, right?” she mumbled, debating. But she was already pulling open a drawer while Tikki sat on the edge, staring at her.

“Probably not,” the Kwami agreed with a giggle. “Luka certainly didn’t mind this morning.”

Marinette shushed Tikki and her teasing, feeling her own cheeks flush as she picked out a shirt and a pair of shorts. Quickly, Marinette changed, trusted Tikki to hide herself, and went out to the kitchen.

The apartment wasn’t large, but Luka’s clutter was minimal. Sparsely decorated, he had little to show in terms of personal items or tastes. She had been here before, plenty of times, but she had always thought it looked like his home was  _ missing _ something. 

Marinette frowned as she approached the small but tidy kitchen. Luka turned to her, still dressed in only his pants, and offered her a mug of hot coffee.

“Good morning,” he said, his eyebrows raising as his eyes widened. He looked her up and down, and Marinette was pleased that he seemed flustered.

“Good morning,” she replied, smirking as she took the offered mug. She inhaled deeply, humming. “Heavenly…”

“Like you?” 

She looked up, only to find Luka with his back turned, chopping up a melon on a cutting board.

“Sorry about the clothes,” Marinette said instead, taking a tentative sip. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“N-Not at all,” Luka swallowed, pushing pieces into a bowl. “You look, uh…”

Oh, he was  _ definitely _ flustered. 

She could work with this. Maybe what his home was missing was a little bit of action.

Marinette put her mug on the counter next to the bowl, picked up a piece of melon, and placed it in her mouth. She chewed, swallowed, and looked up at him. Luka was watching her as if he was waiting for her opinion, his knife paused.

“It’s good.” Marinette daintily picked up another piece and offered it to him. “Try it,” she whispered, daring him.

Luka leaned down and took it between his teeth, his gaze never leaving hers, and he chewed, swallowed, and licked his lips. She watched his tongue, copying the motion with her own.

“Delicious,” he mumbled, before he put the knife down, turned towards her, and placed his hands on her waist. Marinette grinned as he kissed her, more than happy to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him down.

They tasted like toothpaste, coffee, and melon. Their kisses were lazy, almost sluggish, as they worked through their morning fog and muggy thoughts. His hands, large and rough and calloused, moved under her (his?) shirt, and Marinette giggled into Luka’s mouth.

“Ticklish?” he asked, kissing her between words. 

“A little,” she answered, his hands ghosting down her sides and behind her back. He dipped his fingers below the waistband of the shorts, and Marinette tangled her fingers in his blue-dyed hair.

When his tongue ran over the top of her palette, Marinette forcibly pulled him back. Luka blinked at her, confused. Marinette wetted her mouth, tasting him, before she found her words.

“Again,” she said firmly, although she knew she was blushing. “Let’s go again.”

Luka looked surprised before his face split into a playful smirk. “Mmm, are you sure?” he asked, kissing the corner of her mouth as his hands sank further into her shorts. “We were pretty drunk last night.”

_ “Yes,” _ Marinette sighed as his fingers dug into her backside. Luka grunted as she tightened her grip on his hair, and he pulled his hands free of her clothes, only to grab the back of her thighs, and  _ lift. _

She squeaked as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms dropping to his shoulders. Luka huffed as he leaned back, trying to support her weight, and then held her close as he carried her. Marinette clung to him, shocked at his strength, but he only went as far as the opposite counter. He sat her down on it, and Luka tilted his head up to kiss her. Marinette laughed into it, their teeth clicking as she tried to refrain from giggling.

“Impressive,” she cooed. "But now I have the upper hand." And Marinette gently tipped his head back to kiss him, licking into his mouth as Luka hummed. She broke away to kiss across his jawline, her teeth playfully dragging across his skin. Luka gasped when she nipped at his neck, and he coaxed her mouth back to his with one hand.

"Do you?" Luka asked, kissing her again. When he tried to run his tongue along her lips, Marinette pushed back. She tightened her thighs around his waist, and she relished in her victory as Luka moaned with her.

"I think so," she teased, and he smiled.

"I'll have to change that."

Marinette had no time to contemplate what Luka meant, for right afterwards, he again wrapped his hands under her thighs and pulled her to him. Marinette steadied herself on his shoulders for a second time, giggling as he carried her out of the kitchen.

"Luka!" she exclaimed, unable to stop her laughter as he wobbled towards the dining table. "You're such a  _ show-off, _ oh my g--"

"Am I?" he asked, placing her down atop the varnished wood. "Me, a  _ musician? _ A  _ show-off? _ You wound me so!" But Luka's cheeky grin said everything behind his sarcasm. Marinette glared at him before she rolled her eyes and dragged him forcibly into another kiss.

This time, Luka's hands travelled up under her shirt, the rough pads of his fingers skimming across her skin. Marinette's breath hitched when his thumb found a nipple, and he sighed as he gently cradled her breast. Their kiss turned slower, less urgent, simply enjoying the feel of each other as Marinette pushed her hips into his. She ran her hands across his bare chest, relishing in the feel of his muscles, and he groaned as her nails tickled down his sides.

“I need to--” Luka broke off the kiss, but Marinette chased after him, interrupting him. “Marinette,” he tried again, but she nibbled his bottom lip and he whined.

“Melody,” he said, more firmly, and she moved away from his mouth. 

“You need to, what?” she whispered low, her lips tracing across his jaw. Marinette reached his ear, and she lightly scraped her teeth against the lobe. Luka shuddered, his hands leaving her breasts to hook his thumbs into the shorts.

“Condoms are in the bedroom,” he grunted, forcing the words out. Marinette glanced down at the bulge in his pants. She pushed her hips into his, her whole body burning as he dropped his head to her shoulder with another moan.

“I have an IUD,” Marinette breathed into his ear. “It’s fine.”

“A what?” Luka grumbled, and she chuckled as she undid the button on his pants.

“It’s birth control,” she explained, pulling down the zipper and pushing his pants down just enough to free his erection. Luka bit his lip, his teeth leaving behind a deep impression, as she wrapped her hand around him. Marinette gave him a few gentle, teasing strokes, but Luka pulled her hand away after a moment.

He was breathing hard, and Marinette blinked at him innocently as he tried to form words. Luka had to swallow and clear his throat before he could continue.

“I don’t mind, I really don’t,” Luka clarified. “But are you sure? It’s messy.”

“I can take another shower,” Marinette supplied. “And you’d be free to join me.”

Luka raised an eyebrow at her, but he chuckled and shook his head. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly. Then, Luka guided her to lay down across the table as he finally pulled down the shorts and her underwear.

“The bed would be more comfortable,” he continued, throwing the clothes somewhere behind him as she laughed.

“You’re such a gentleman,” Marinette teased, but she gasped when his thumb pushed against her clit. He rubbed and moved the pad in small circles, and Marinette arched into the sensation. She moaned as his index finger joined in, gently pinching and rolling the bundle of nerves until she had to close her eyes and just rock into the feeling, letting him push up the shirt and pepper kisses on her stomach.

_ “Shit, _ Luka!” She bucked harder when his teeth scraped her skin and he slid one finger easily between her folds. One quickly became two, and Marinette sighed and moaned as he teased her. He made sure she was wet and squirming before slowly pulling away.

They paused, both of them breathing heavily, before they both swallowed, licked their lips, and silently nodded to each other.

“Go on,” Marinette uttered, her voice low and seductive. When had she perfected that, she wondered? “Mess me up, Couffaine.”

Watching Luka turn as red as her earrings was worth all of the embarrassment of saying it, and Marinette giggled again as he dragged her closer. His cock was heavy and warm against her folds, and Marinette happily wrapped one leg around his lean waist. Luka took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he leaned over her.

"Careful what you wish for," he answered, his pitch just as deep, his tone just as teasing. Marinette reached up and ran her fingers through his blue hair, enjoying the feel of him relaxing in her hold. She tugged him lower, kissing his mouth once before breathing her response against his lips.

"I don’t need to be careful when what I wish for, is you."

Luka groaned, cursed, and then took his cock in his hand. Almost hurriedly, he guided himself to her entrance before slowly pressing in. Marinette breathed in deep, relaxing her body, and Luka let go of himself so he could push in the rest of the way. She moaned, shifting her hips to adjust while he leaned back over her, his arms on either side of her. 

She held onto him with one hand as Luka started to move. Her other reached for the table, the sharp edge digging into her fingers and offering her more stability. They rocked together for a while, adjusting to the sensations, panting and kissing and whimpering. Luka returned to putting pressure on her clit, and Marinette gave a harder buck into his hand that had him groaning.

"Luka," she breathed, the name feeling reverent and salty on her tongue. "More."

He didn't need to be told twice.

With only a nod as acknowledgement, Luka increased the pace. He eased up into it, but soon, he was thrusting eagerly, grunting and whining. Marinette threw her head back, meeting his thrusts with her own, gripping the table edge tighter and tighter as the furniture tried to support them. 

Eventually, a particularly hard thrust had her not only seeing stars, but also caused the table to hop backwards. Luka slipped out, and they both yelled, "Fuck!" simultaneously.

After a brief laugh, Luka pulled her to him. Marinette wrapped her arms around his shoulders again, and he picked her up. She nearly voiced her confusion as he carried her, but when her back hit the wall, Marinette understood.

She leaned her shoulders against it, tightened her thighs around his waist, and held on. Luka easily slipped back inside her, and Marinette moaned loudly at the new angle. He buried his face in her neck, his breath hot on her pulse, and she rotated her hips as he started thrusting again.

"You're--  _ nnngg-- _ beautiful," Luka managed, his pace quickly picking up. Since his hands were busy supporting her weight, Marinette moved one arm off his neck to in-between them, pinching and rolling her clit as he thrusted. The coil of tension between them was increasing, spurred on by their closeness.

"You're just--  _ aaahh!-- _ saying that--” She had to swallow as he brushed against that spot inside her, sending arousal drumming through her body. “Because I’m wearing your clothes.”

Luka chuckled deeply, before readjusting his grip on her thighs and angling his hips to better hit that spot on every thrust. Marinette shifted her weight to accommodate him as she rocked into his motions. Both of them were doing their best to adjust their timing to her pleasure, and she laid her head back against the wall as she rode it out. On every thrust, she pinched her clit, and she would whine and moan as Luka’s hands held on tighter and tighter.

“Marinette,” he panted, his arms shaking as he called her name.  _ “Marinette, _ look at me.”

She did.

She was looking up at him, and he down at her. They were both sweating and breathing heavily, but they were deeply focused on seeing this through. The intensity in Luka’s blue eyes, the sheer reverence carved into his face, the concern and adoration and  _ lust _ he had for her so clearly on display…

Marinette keened as she came, her nails digging into his back as she held on, her eyes drifting shut despite her attempts to hold his gaze. Luka came undone shortly after, his orgasm causing his voice to stutter and his knees to give. They slipped down to the floor, her legs still tight around his waist, and they rode out the aftershocks there on the tile. His lips shakily moving over hers, and Marinette kissed him back with fiery passion. Everything faded into a slow, steady burn as they both came down from their high.

“Are you okay?” she whispered, watching his muscles twitch. Luka tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a huff.

“I think I can skip the gym today,” he muttered, and she chuckled in response.

In a daze, they gradually worked towards recovering enough strength to stand. Marinette stood first on shaky legs, but she helped haul Luka to his own feet shortly after. They wobbled towards the bathroom, laughing and exchanging kisses, and Luka turned on the shower with ease as Marinette grabbed a washcloth. They helped each other clean up, their conversation nearly nonexistent, and once they were both clean, they donned new sets of clothes from Luka’s drawers.

Luka stared at her with a smirk on his face, and Marinette bit her lip as she playfully swatted at him. He laughed, turning away so her hand hit his arm, before making his way to the kitchen.

“What else did you have planned for breakfast?” Marinette asked as she followed him. Luka shrugged. 

“I have eggs?” He returned to the melon he had been slicing, picking up the knife and falling back into the motions of dividing it. “And some chèvre in the fridge.”

“I can work with that,” Marinette offered, pushing up the sleeves of her shirt and getting to work. “Do you have anything sweet?” she asked, thinking of Tikki.

“Nothing sweeter than you.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling as she inspected the eggs on the counter.

Luka watched her as she busied herself with the preparations, letting her know where items were as she went. Marinette was focused as if the task at hand was of utmost importance. Once the saucepan was on the stove, and she was scrambling eggs with a whisk in a bowl, Luka softly and suddenly spoke up.

“You should stay.”

Marinette stopped, blinking at him. “Uhm, yeah?” she said. “I’m definitely sticking around for at  _ least _ breakfast.”

“No, I mean…” He shifted his weight, looking sheepish. Marinette paused in her whisking; she had rarely seen him unsure, and considering that they had just had  _ mindblowing sex _ on his kitchen table, she had no idea what could be making him nervous.

“Luka?” she inquired. He took a deep breath.

“I mean like, you can leave a toothbrush. Some clothes. Shampoo and stuff.” Marinette stared at him as he turned pink and ran his fingers through his hair. “I uh, I’m not home much when we’re touring, but…”

She realised what he was asking. “Oh…” Marinette breathed, caught off guard. She frowned, pouring the eggs into the saucepan. “I don’t… I don’t know, Luka…”

“Why not?” he pressed. “We meet up nearly every time I’m in town. I’d love to have you around.”

“That’s not the problem,” Marinette sighed as she stirred. “I know what you’re really asking. I  _ can’t. _ All my sewing stuff is--”

“I have a second bedroom,” Luka instantly interrupted her. “We can convert it. It’s-- It’s really just storage right now, so…”

“Luka,  _ no,” _ Marinette scolded him. “That’s where you record!” She pointed the spatula at his face, and Luka grinned at her. “I am not taking that away from you!”

“I don’t,” he said softly. “Not anymore. I got my own space at the studio recently.”

She blinked, absorbing that detail, and returned the spatula to the pan, the eggs slowly cooking through. “I’m still not comfortable with...taking over your space like that.”

“We could split it,” Luka offered, his tone hopeful. 

“My sewing machine is  _ not _ recording safe,” Marinette countered, and he laughed.

“Like I said, I record at the studio.” He set the knife down and picked up the strips of rind left behind. “And well, when I do want to record here, we can just figure it out, yeah?”

Marinette thought about it as Luka threw the rinds in the trash. The idea was  _ tempting. _ Luka’s bed was comfortable, he was always warm, and he knew how she liked her coffee. They were practically dating, albeit they had never confirmed that, and she wasn’t interested in seeing anyone else. And Marinette knew he wasn’t either.

She added the chèvre to the eggs, one lump at a time, stirring all the while. Once everything was mixed and thoroughly cooked, she divided up the eggs onto two plates Luka had taken out. She turned off the stove, they put the extra dishes in the sink, and they each grabbed a fork before heading to the table with their breakfast.

“Let’s start with just a toothbrush and go from there?” she finally said, as they settled down in their chairs. 

Yet Luka’s bright grin told Marinette all that she needed to know.

Soon, this would be her home, too.


End file.
